


World of the Skin Puppets

by charmed_seconds



Series: A King and His Warlock [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, F/M, M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed_seconds/pseuds/charmed_seconds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world was in ruins. Zombies have overtaken Europe and everyone was striving just to live. No matter how callous you get from living in a post-apocalyptic world, one is never ready to face the undead corpse of a loved one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World of the Skin Puppets

**Author's Note:**

> This was a word prompt that got out of hand. I hope you enjoy it.

 

**Part One**

  
  
“Get your fucking arse up there, Emrys,” squawked in his ear as he sprinted up the metal stairs, “Two walkers on your six.”

  
“Thanks for the repetitive information there,” he huffed out as he sprinted up the store’s fire escape, “You know, you could, oh, I don’t know, actually do something!”

  
A loud shot rang out. “One down.” a cold voice spoke.

“Thanks Morgana, glad one Pendragon is useful.” Merlin stated, ignoring Arthur’s protest.

  
“Stop praising and just get your arse in the damn store, Merlin, you know, before you become zombie food.” Morgana replied.

  
Merlin ran up one more flight, nearly cheering when he saw a fire exit door on that level. Turning, he held his hand out and with a whispered word, the walker went flying back. He watched with stoic blue eyes as it fell down. It landed on the asphalt with a sickening crunch. He took a few moments to catch his breath before opening the door. With trepidation, he entered the run-down department store. He clutched the 9mm in his hand as he rounded the corners.

  
He quickly grabbed diapers, wipes, and formula for Mordred and Sophia, the two newest additions to the camp. He grabbed jerky, and other non-perishable food for them along with water. A few bottles of whiskey and rum was added for Gwaine, a small present for the man’s birthday. He reached for a few pairs of baby clothing when he heard it.  
It was a soft crunch. Raspy moaning.

  
Twisting, he nearly screamed. A handful of walkers were approaching him. Peering around them, he saw that the entrance of the store was broken and more zombies were coming in. Cursing, he flung his hand out and watched as the group soared back towards the glass windows. He grabbed the baby clothing before dashing back towards the fire exit. Throwing it open, he raced down the metal stairs. “Shit!” he heard Arthur swear in his ear.

  
Hearing the moans behind him, Merlin urged his legs to go faster. Glancing down, he froze. The ground was littered with zombies. The walkers behind him were quickly approaching.  
“Any clear ways?” he asked, weakly.

  
“Merlin,” he heard Morgana whisper, “They’re coming up.”

  
Licking his lips, he looked around. His heart caught in his chest. Two floors down he found his salvation. Rushing down the small flights, he jumped on to the small railing. “Merlin...what are you doing?” He heard Arthur inquire.

 

“Saving my arse,” Merlin answered before leaping.

 

He winced as glass sliced through his skin. Grunting, Merlin landed on the wooden floor hard. He took a few seconds to gather his bearings before looking around. Zombie free. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up. Looking around, he frowned when he realized that he was in a young woman’s bedroom. Peeling band posters hung on the flowery wallpapered walls. Limping, he walked out of the room and down the stairs into the living room. “Merlin!”

 

“I’m fine, Arthur.” Merlin breathed.

 

“Get your arse to 83rd street. Gwaine’s waiting in the car.”

 

“Aye-aye, sire.” Merlin joked.

 

Taking a deep breath, he hitched his loaded bag higher and opened the door. It was clear. For now. Exhaling, Merlin ran out of the house.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Part Two**

 

It all started with a small virus. As a trained nurse and future doctor, Merlin worked alongside his Uncle Gaius in his small physician office in Elador. He remembered the frantic call he got from a husband. HIs wife was burning up and he didn’t comprehend why. He found her passed out on the floor and thought it was perhaps a mere cold that got out of hand and he trusted Gaius more than any run-of-the-mill ER doctor that will probably just slap pills in his hand and tell him to be on his merry way.

  
Gaius, being the kind man he was, grabbed his medicine bag and ventured out. He returned a couple hours later with a wounded hand and a depressing diagnosis. The woman died a few hours later.  
She ate her husband a day later.

  
Merlin put down his Uncle the same day.

* * *

  
“Look like you went for a bit of a run there, Sparky,”

  
Merlin glared at the long-haired man, “Gwaine, shove it.” He leaned forward as he caught his breath, “Jesus Christ.”

  
“Someone wasn’t in track as a kid,” Morgana snickered.

  
Turning around, Merlin narrowed his eyes on the Pendragon siblings. Morgana stood gracefully, her long arms folded delicately over her chest. A sniper rifle hung on her back, a trio of magazines attached to her hips. Her black hair - once long and luxurious - was bound tightly in a braid. Her older brother - Arthur - stood beside her. He was a couple of inches taller than his sister and broad shouldered. Built like a rugby player, Arthur wore a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans. His blond hair was a messy, short crop.

  
Merlin softly smiled at the blond as Arthur sighed. The blond holstered his firearm and gestured that they should get moving. “So, what’cha get, Sparky?”

  
“Some stuff for the babies, and a bit more food. I would’ve gotten more but the walkers got into the store.” Merlin sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

He gasped when he felt a large hand wrap around his wrist. “Your arms are scratched to hell,”

  
Merlin raised an eyebrow and leveled his gaze with Arthur’s, “KInd of happens when you go through a window.”

  
Arthur exhaled slowly, “Get in the car, Merlin, and where the hell are the bandages?”

  
“Glove compartment.”

  
Arthur nodded and opened the armored car’s passenger side door. He grabbed the small roll of white bandages and then pulled Merlin to the back seat, relinquishing the passenger side for his sister. As the car revved up, Arthur pulled Merlin’s arms toward him and began slowly bandaging them. “We’ll need to dump hydrogen peroxide on your arms.”

  
“But that hurts!” whined Merlin.

  
Arthur looked at the dark hair, lithe man. “So does amputation.”

  
“Wow, dramatic.”

  
Arthur snorted, “Idiot.”

  
Merlin smiled and leaned forward; his forehead resting on Arthur’s shoulder, “You were just worried and too much of a prat to admit it”

  
Arthur chuckled and wrapped his arms loosely around Merlin’s body. “Always think you know me, Little Hawk.”

  
Merlin grinned and relaxed, “Yeah, I do.”

  
No one commented on the meaning of those three words.

* * *

  
Three weeks after he put a bullet in his Uncle’s head, he was found by Arthur and Morgana. He was running; a mass of walkers on his tail, a few crawlers lingering behind the group. He used his magic to pushed them away; but, his power was quickly being used up. He could feel his damnation breathing on the back of his neck.

  
That’s when the shot rang out.

  
Looking over his shoulder, he saw a zombie fall to the ground. A perfect, circular hole dead center of its forehead.

  
Another shot rang out.

  
Another zombie hit the ground.

  
“What the hell are you doing? Get your arse in here!”

  
Turning around, he saw Arthur in a heavily armored car. Morgana was poking out of a sun roof, her rifle resting on the top of the car as shots continued to ring out. “Hurry up!” Arthur yelled, “We only have so many bullets, you know.”

  
Merlin didn’t need to be told twice. Sprinting, he ran towards the car and jumped into the back seat.

  
“I’m surprised to see a survivor in the outskirts of Elador.” he heard Morgana whisper.

  
“Me too,” agreed Arthur, “So, what’s your name?”

  
“M-Merlin Emrys.”

  
Morgana glanced down, “Hello Warlock.”

  
Merlin tensed, “How did-”

  
Her green eyes flashed gold. “While my physical power isn’t to your par, I am of the magical arts as well. I See the future and all of it’s bloody details.”

  
“Did you-”

  
Morgana nodded, “I Saw this months ago. That’s how I saved Arthur and my friends.”

  
“Thank you, for you know, finding me.”

  
“What kind of idiot are you to go in the center of the town?” Arthur asked.  
  
Merlin frowned, “I was looking for previsions, you damn prat.”

Morgana smiled, “I’m Morgana Pendragon, and the prat is Arthur.”

  
Merlin looked at the two. Flashes of tabloids and television shows. “The...Prince and...Duchess.”

  
“That is us.” Morgana affirmed, “Although, not much to reign over anymore.”

  
Arthur snorted, “A handful of people doesn’t really equal a country.”

  
“People! You’re not the-”

  
Morgana knelt, “No, we’re not the only ones, Merlin. There are others. Thriving to survive.”

  
“What’s going to happen?”

  
Morgana’s eyes closed; her posture deflating. “Even I haven’t Seen that yet, Merlin.”

  
“Oh.”

  
Morgana opened her eyes, “We have a camp outside of Winchester. Twenty people who are just dying to see a doctor.”

  
“I’m not a-’

  
“Frankly Merlin, you’re the closest damn thing we have to one, so get use to the title.” Morgana snapped.

  
Merlin sighed and relinquished the argument.

  
Five years ago, he put a bullet in his Uncle’s head.

  
Five years ago, he lost contact with his mother.

  
Five years ago, he took on the title Camp Doctor.

  
Three years ago, he took on the title Prince Consort.

  
A year ago, he added the title Godfather to Mordred Alexander Sweord, the first born of the camp.

  
And three months ago, Sophia Grace Smith was born and he tacked on another Godfather title.

  
And throughout that time, he’s seen more people die by lover’s hands that he wished to see. Sparking a relationship was dangerous within a zombie warfield; because you don’t know if tomorrow you might have to put a bullet into their skull.  


* * *

 

 

  
**Part Three**

The camp was nothing more than a clearing in a forest with an abundance of tents. Game flourished in the trees and a river was close by giving the camp enough to live on when they couldn’t make it to a store. Arthur, Merlin, Morgana and Gwaine was welcomed home with opened arms, elated that they made it back whole and unbitten; and with an small collection of provisions. Merlin handed the diapers and wipes to a overjoyed Gwen and Lancelot, the father looking at the small infant in his arms as if she was going to be their salvation in the war against the undead.

  
Hell, for all he knew, she could be.

  
He handed the other package of diapers and wipes to Morgana’s husband, Leon. Mordred was hugging his mother, thankful she was home. Although only a year old, the toddler comprehended that just because someone left it didn’t mean they were coming back. Yawning, he handed the rest of the bag to Mary, an elderly lady that overlooked the food and aided other ladies in cooking it; since in her words, no one knew how to make a batch of stew from scratch anymore.

  
“Let’s head to bed,” Arthur whispered to him, his arm wrapped loosely around Merlin’s thin waist.

  
Merlin nodded and allowed Arthur to lead him to their shared tent towards the back of the camp. It was one of the largest ones as numerous meetings also took place in their tent. A tattered mattress with mismatched sheets acted as their bed. A few boxes were their dresser. And a few books were their entertainment. It was far from the life that Merlin once knew. He couldn’t even fathom what it was like for Arthur. Arthur let out a long sigh as he peeled his shirt off. Merlin smiled and sauntered over, his long fingers tracing the defined abs.

  
Arthur chuckled and lightly grasped the wandering fingers, “It’s still daylight.”

  
Merlin smirked, “It’s nothing we haven’t done before, sire.”

  
Arthur moaned softly, “Merlin, how God gifted me with you, I will never know.”

  
Wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck, his lips ghosting acrossed the blond’s, “I’m pretty sure God has nothing to do with sodemy, my Lord.”

  
“Then I pity him,” Arthur murmured before pulling Merlin on to the bed.  
  


* * *

  
“Where are they?”

  
Merlin blinked before opening his eyes. Standing around a table in his tent was Arthur and a few other older men. They were bent over a map. “Outside of London,” Lancelot - Gwen’s husband - answer, jabbing his finger onto the map.

  
Arthur nodded, “Okay, we’ll head out tomorrow. If you don’t wish to come, no fault against you. Everyone that does, meet by the car at dawn.”

  
The men nodded once before filtering out. Arthur sighed and turned around, “You’re awake.”

Merlin stood, still naked, and walked towards the blond, “What’s going on?”

  
“Elyan got a distress call. Apparently there is a small coven of people on the northern outskirts of London.”

“London is overloaded with zombies, Arthur.”

  
“I know,” Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “But I can’t leave them to die, Merlin. They’re begging for help, I can’t just ignore it.”

 

Merlin sighed and leaned his head against Arthur’s bare chest, “It’s a suicide mission,”

 

“Pretty much,”

“Guess I should pack, huh?”

“Who said you were coming with?”

“As if I let you go alone. Your arse would be zombie food the second you left the car without me.”

Arthur laughed, “Right, I’m sure you mixed us up, Little Hawk.”

Merlin hummed, “We could die tomorrow.”

“Yep.”

Merlin looked up and smirked, “Well, guess we should make the most of tonight, no?”

Arthur grinned, “My thoughts exactly.”

* * *

 

 

  
**Part Four**

London was crawling with zombies. The mass of the population was turned early on, and the virus spread easily between families and friends. The once safe haven for survivors became the breeding grounds of zombies. People fled from the city and made small camps in the surrounding smaller towns or in small clearings in the forests. Everyone knew to stay away from London, only the foolish daring to step foot into the city limits to save the few pockets of humans that remained.

* * *

  
Merlin snuck a glance at Arthur, the blond man snoozing peacefully against the window while Merlin drove down the abandoned freeway towards London. The sun was high over the land, illuminating the broken down billboards and the destroyed buildings that now littered the country. Soon enough, the dark skyline of London broke the green horizon. Merlin gently nudged Arthur awake, the man sending a glare in retaliation. Wordlessly, he told Arthur to wake up the two in the back : Morgana and Lancelot.

“Where should I park?” Merlin inquired.

“Fleet, and by a manhole. They’re underground.” answered Arthur.

“Fun,” moaned Morgana.

Arthur sent his sister a brief smile before looking out the front. London was around them.

And so were the zombies.

Their groans echoed around them and Merlin couldn’t help but wince when a few zombies collided with the reinforced metal of the vehicle. “Parking,” Merlin stated as he slowed down, “‘Gana.”

“Coming right up, dear,” She said; moving to the center of the large car.

Her eyes glowed a bright gold as she began to whisper. The other three men braced themselves. a few seconds later, a strong pulse of power shot from around the vehicle. The surrounding zombies launched back.

“You’ll have a few seconds.” Morgana rasped out

Arthur nodded and jumped out along with Lancelot. The two men made quick work of the manhole cover. “Morgana, drive.” Merlin ordered as he pushed himself out of the seat. He walked towards the back of the armored car as Morgana came forward. He peered out the small window, watching the manhole intently. He waited.

Then a hand popped up.

Merlin began whispering words as he opened the door. The moans echoed around him as he held out his hands. Quickly, a translucent blue barrier was brought up around the area between the manhole and the car door. “Hurry up!” he shouted, “I don’t know how long I can hold this!”

Arthur quickly popped out and rushed to the car, slipping in between Merlin and the siding. “Come on!” he yelled back.

Merlin winced as the zombies began clawing at the magical shield, their battering as if it was grating against his skull. He could hear the people skirting beside him. “You can release it, babe.” Arthur whispered.

With a heavy sigh, Merlin lowered his hands. Stumbling back, he was thankful for Arthur’s arms holding up. Glancing out of the window, his heart froze.

She was there. Her gray hair tattered. Her eyes sunken in. Her face was all battered, a distinct bite bloody and gruesome on her neck. And with a choked sob, Merlin realized that she was missing her right arm. “No..” he whispered, his hand coming up to cover his agape mouth, “No.”

“Merlin?” Arthur inquired as the car kicked into drive, “Merlin, what’s-”

“It was her,” Merlin whispered, his eyes squeezing shut - a few tears tumbling down his cheeks, “Arthur, it was her.” he fell to his knees, the weight of revelation and the exhaustion of keeping the barrier up taking a toll on him.  
Arthur glanced around, hoping for an answer from one of the others. “Who was it?”  
Merlin turned his head into Arthur’s chest, his tears flowing freely now, “My mother.”

* * *

 

 

**Part Five**

No one spoke on the way back to camp. No had the words to comfort the grieving Merlin; there were no words. She was gone. A victim to the virus that forced her to become a monster. And there was only one way to stop her.  
  
Someone had to sever her brain from her decaying body.  
  
And that someone should be kin.  
  
When they arrived in camp, Merlin rushed from the car and rushed to the tent. He didn’t want to see the questioning glances, and the sorrowful looks that Arthur, Morgana and Lancelot wanted to give him.  He should’ve known that she wasn’t alive anymore. She worked in London as a nurse. It was only logic that she was probably caught in the crossfire. He shouldn’t have held on to the naive hope that his mother was out there, surviving through this Hell.  
  
Merlin sank to the bed, his hands covering his face. Tears were flowing freely but any noise was kept in his throat. Flashes of his memories swam through his mind. Her cooking. Her scolding. Her hugs. Her love.  
Without a father, his mother was the only resemblance he had of a family. She was a perfect being in his eyes. She was caring, funny, and strong. She raised him, dealt with his magic throughout his life. She was the first one to take him in her arms and tell him that he wasn’t a freak because his eyes glowed gold that his magic was something that should be treasured and made him more special than he already was. When he came out, she merely smiled and simply inquired what he would want for dinner that night and that he had to clean his room.  
  
When he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder, he sank into the comfort. His mother was now something that didn’t resemble anything in life; and, it pained him. She wouldn’t want to live like this.  
Leaning back, he wiped the tears from his face and looked up at Arthur. “I have to go back,” he whispered.  
  
Arthur nodded and handed him a 9mm.  
(*)  
“She was around here,” Arthur whispered as they drove through the morning lit London roads.  
  
Merlin licked his lips as he peered around, searching desperately. Then, she saw her. “There.”  
  
Arthur slowed, growling at a few wayward zombies that were clawing at the doors. Merlin took a deep breath and eased a door open. Throwing his hand out with a shouted word, the few lingering zombies flew back. Most have seemingly moved on from the spot after the aspect of food had vanished. But, she stayed.  
  
Cocking the pistol, he eased out of the car. He made his way towards her. She stumbled towards him.. Her blue eyes have dimmed to a gray, the color sucking all the compassion and care that Merlin knew always radiated from his mother’s eyes. She moaned loudly as the two grew closer. Faintly, in the background, he could hear the faint whisper of Arthur shooting off rounds from a silenced rifle. Soon, she was a few feet from him, and he stopped. Out of safety, he couldn’t get any closer.  
  
He chuckled brokenly as he lifted the pistol - his hands were shaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you, Mum. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save Uncle Gaius either. I’m sorry.”  
  
She moaned loudly.  
  
She was getting too close.

“I love you,” he told her before squeezing the trigger.  
  
He flinched when the circular hole erupted in the middle of her forehead. Tears flowed as her body tumbled towards the asphalt. And when he saw all movement stop, he took a step forward.  
  
And shot her one more time.  
  
His face scrunched up as he looked at his mother’s corpse. She didn’t deserve this.  
  
“Merlin! We need to go now! Too many are coming!” He heard Arthur shout from the car.  
  
He nodded and licked his lips. “I’m sorry.”  
  
He left with tear streaks on his face.  
  
And a new determination in his heart. **  
**


End file.
